


Tilting At Winchesters

by FrenchRoast



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 21:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6026610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrenchRoast/pseuds/FrenchRoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean Winchester investigate the many strange events centered on the town of Storybrooke, Maine. They'll uncover far more than they or anyone in the town ever expected.</p><p>Set in early season 8 of Supernatural, late season 2 of Once Upon a Time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tilting At Winchesters

“Might have a case for us,” Sam said as Dean walked in the door with take-out. Sam had been trying to find cases to keep them occupied now that Dean had escaped Purgatory, but it had been over a week since they killed that Acheri two states over, and they needed a new case. Anything to keep Dean busy and help them both forget that Kevin Tran had warned them to leave him alone or he would use the Leviathan and Demon tablets against them. They'd decided to leave Kevin alone; if he could best Crowley, he was plenty capable. If he needed them, he had their number. But Kevin’s words still stung.

“Yeah?” Dean grabbed his burger out of the bag before tossing the bag in Sam’s direction. “What’s the story on this one?”

“A bail-bondswoman from Boston vanished after leaving word she was taking a kid back home to Storybrooke, Maine. Left everything in her apartment and never came back.” Sam pulled a burger from the bag. “Dean, I said chicken sandwich, not burger.”

“They were out.”

“Of chicken?”

Dean shrugged. “Your case sounds more like someone was pissed off at her and took matters into their own hands. Maybe someone she turned in for skipping bail got out and wanted a little retribution. Or hell, maybe she just stayed in that town. Doesn’t sound like our kind of thing.” He was already halfway through his burger. _I should've bought some pie to wash this down,_ Dean thought as he chewed.

“I’d agree with you on that,” Sam said, “but that town pops up only a few other times as far as I can tell, and every mention coincides with a disappearance. The first was in ’83; a boy found by state troopers claimed the town’s mayor trapped his father there. No one ever saw the father again.” Sam stared at his burger and sighed. This was why he wanted to do the food run instead of Dean. Dean was still pissed about being stuck in Purgatory for so long, and he wasn't above petty revenge like getting Sam the wrong order.

“Weird, but not impossible. Maybe a murder case if the mayor was crazy enough.”

“The second was just a few years ago; a woman named Susan left all her foster kids alone in her house. They’re all on record saying she told them she was going to Storybrooke to see her sister.”

“So three random people disappeared. I’m still not seeing how this relates to us, Sam.” Dean popped the last bit of his burger into his mouth, and noticed Sam had barely touched his. “If you don’t want to eat your burger, I’ll take it.”

“No, I’ll eat it,” Sam said, fending off Dean’s reach. “But I haven’t told you the weird part. The state troopers who found the boy? Insisted that the town doesn’t exist. The boy even said that it appeared overnight. Which would be ridiculous, except there is zero information about the town of Storybrooke, Maine. Nothing outside of these three news articles mentioning it. It doesn’t appear on a single regular map.”

“So how would we even find it if we wanted to?”

“That’s how I know we should be looking into it. It’s in Dad’s journal. There was a huge storm in rural Maine, and it happened the night before the kid was found,” Sam said. “Here, check it out.” He handed Dean the journal with the page open to one of many lists of “possible signs of demon activity.”

“You said 1983. You think this is Yellow Eyes?”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe? Or maybe one of his associates. Could be fairies, too, with the storms and the disappearances.”

Dean glared at him. “I hate fairies.”

“Careful, Dean. You know what happened last time you said that.”

“I _hate_ fucking fairies.”

Sam cracked a smile. “I’m sure as hell not going to make you fuck any fairies, Dean.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not gonna do that, either.”

* * *  
Dean parked the black Chevy Impala on the curb behind a bright yellow VW bug, and they got out of the car, stretching. Dean gestured towards the older Victorian house peeking up from behind a mass of shrubbery. The faded green sign on the porch read “Granny’s Bed & Breakfast.” It wasn't the most inviting B&B they'd ever seen.

“You sure this is the only place to stay in the whole town?” he asked dubiously.

“It’s a small town, Dean.”

Dean let out a disappointed sigh. “At least it’s next to the diner. Maybe we can escape breakfast with the other guests in the morning if we’re quick.”

“Let’s just get checked in first. We can get food and see what’s going on afterwards,” Sam suggested.

When they opened the door, it was immediately obvious that Granny’s B&B was not the most hopping place they’d ever been to. It was eerily quiet. The front desk was unoccupied, so Dean slapped at the bell sitting on the counter.

“Hello? Anyone here?” Dean called as he rang the bell. He turned to Sam. Sam shrugged.

“I guess we wait?”

In a room just behind the desk, they heard the sound of a chair or some other piece of furniture tumbling over, then a crash, followed by exasperated swearing. The door from the room behind the front desk swung open, and a tall brunette with cherry red highlights stepped out. Upon seeing the Winchesters, the woman grinned and subtly adjusted her scarlet top to show a little more cleavage.

  
“Sorry, we don’t get many visitors, though I guess that’s changing. How many rooms?”

“Just the one.”

“And how many nights?”

“As long as it takes, sweetheart.” Dean flashed a smile. She looked like his type. Even if this case was a bust, maybe it wouldn't be a complete loss.

“Name’s Ruby.”

Dean jerked at the mention of the name. Eyes suddenly wide, he looked at Sam, who rolled his own eyes. 

“Let’s start with a week,” Ruby said, opening the ledger and missing the eyeball exchange between the two brothers. There were only two other entries in the ledger. “That’s 400 for the forest view, or 500 for the square view. If you want breakfast, just show your room key at Granny’s diner next door; it’s good for beverages and the breakfast special.”

They paid for a week and collected their room keys for their room. When they got to their room at the top of the stairs, as Sam turned the key in the lock, the front door downstairs opened and they heard footsteps, along with a new female voice. Dean held his finger up to his lips, motioning for Sam to stop so he could eavesdrop.

“I can’t believe they’re not doing more. That boy almost died while Whale disappeared on his bender. Thank god you found him, Ruby.”

“Whale wouldn’t have let him die, Granny,” Ruby tried to calm her. “He was only worried trying to save him would make things worse. That’s all any of them were worried about. But we would be better off if Emma stopped calling Whale ‘Frankenstein’, even if that’s who he really is.” Sam let go of the door to twist his hands into a “what?” position as he mouthed “Frankenstein?” to Dean. Dean shook his head, just as confused as Sam. The door, being unlocked (and Granny’s Bed and Breakfast being an older, not 100% level building), began to turn on its hinges.

“And then there’s Hook shooting Belle,” Granny went on. “I’ve never seen the Dark One in such a state. Mark my words, we’ll all suffer if she doesn’t get her memories back. Not that I want them in the diner all the time using all the ketchup, but at least their orders were easy enough to make.” There was a loud creak as the door to the Winchesters’ room swung open. “Did you hear that?”

  
“Probably just the new guests settling in,” Ruby told Granny. “Two boys. Claim to be brothers.”

  
“What are they doing here? Are they related to the other newcomer?”

  
“No idea. But they paid for a week.”

  
“Let’s hope they don’t stay any longer. We don’t need more strangers wandering through Storybrooke looking under rocks, causing more problems. It’s not safe for us. Or them.”


End file.
